


Operation: Overlord

by Fallen (FallenOnyx)



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1940s, D-Day 1944, Diary/Journal, M/M, Right before he ships off, Ryan is a soldier, Why isn't there more Ryan is a Soldier stories?, has a happy ending i swear, tags will be updated as story progresses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-23
Updated: 2015-10-30
Packaged: 2018-04-27 18:27:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5059369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallenOnyx/pseuds/Fallen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan is a Marine who has just received his orders. He will be landing at Normandy for D-Day. Ray doesn't want him to go. But Ryan signed away his life for his country eight years ago, and isn't going to quit now.</p><p>(Shout out to VideoPlays5178 for the original idea for this! Go read some of their works!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [VideoPlay5178](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VideoPlay5178/gifts).



> Okay so first off I'm a huge history nerd and I haven't really seen a fanfic written dealing with a lot of history. I will try to give the most amount of details when I can, but please feel free to research this on your own if you are confused. Secondly, this may become a bigger series, so buckle down, this is gonna be fun. :D  
> This is also written in journal form from Ryan's perspective. I prefer to write that way anyway.

_May 3, 1944_

_5:15 AM_

_Staff Sergeant James Ryan Haywood_

_United States Marine Corps_

_Paris Island, South Carolina, United States_

* * *

 

 

I woke slowly, the sleep heavy in my eyes. Running my hands across my face, I tried to finally wake up for the day. The alarm clock on the oak nightstand read 5:15am. I knew I shouldn’t wake you, for it’s far too early in the morning for you. I softly padded to the bathroom, flicking on the light as I entered. I was met with a reflection of myself, my eyes hard and my long wavy locks of hair gone, in its place was a buzz cut, so close to my skin it looked like I was bald. My jaw was set in a sharp point, the day’s events already weighing heavy on my mind. Today would be the day that I would leave you rose. Slowly blinking my eyes, I reached down to grab my razor and take care of the five o’clock shadow I wore. I finished in a few moments, washing off the blade for the final time. Glancing up at the mirror I saw you standing in the doorway to our bathroom, leaning against the wood, your arms crossed in front of your bare chest, sleep heavy on your face. I turned to face you, walking toward the doorway.

“Why so early Rye?” you asked, sleep making your voice thick.

I wrapped you in a hug, our chests meeting.

“I have to leave shortly. You know why.” I spoke softly into your skin. You nuzzled into my chest, your hands pulling me closer.

“Why Rye? Please don’t leave me.” I could feel your tears wet my chest, causing me to hold you tighter.

“Rose, I must. It’s my duty.” I spoke softly, my tears starting to collect at the corners of my eyes.

“Promise me you’ll come home.” Your voice was soft, sadness lacing every word. I pressed a kiss to your head, the smell of roses tingling my nose.

“I promise.” I replied, pulling away to look at you. A smirk fell upon my lips as I leaned in to kiss you deeply. The kiss held for what seemed like an eternity, but it was broken when we pulled away to breathe. I hugged you once more before releasing you, as I needed to change from my pajamas to my dress uniform. I changed into my uniform, the dark blue jacket hung on my shoulders expertly. Blue pants with red pin striping covered my legs. The white belt across my stomach stood sharply against the jacket. I gently caress the insignia on the sleeves, the rank of staff sergeant. Two chevrons, a rocker and crossed rifles stood proud against the dark blue, the gold and red colors gleaming. I knelt down to tie my black dress shoes, the shine was visible even in the low light of the bedroom. I grabbed my crisp white gloves tucking them into my belt, and reaching for my hat, the gold anchor, globe and eagle reminded me of who I am. Every time I put on my uniform, I can’t help but stop and stare at myself. I had dedicated so many years of my life, so much time, into this set of clothing. But it means so much more to me. I am a Marine, and I will forever be one.

I tucked my hat under my arm, and walked from our bedroom to the kitchen, where you were making breakfast. I set my hat down on the counter, wrapping you up in a hug from behind.

“Smells amazing Ray.” I spoke, my lips kissing your neck.

You chuckled, flipping the eggs in the pan.

“Rye you always tell me that.”

“Hey, I’m not lying!” I spoke, releasing you from the hug. I moved to grab some plates and glasses from the cabinets and set them down next to you. We ate our breakfast of bacon and eggs quietly. As we were cleaning the dishes, you were the first to speak.

“Rye, promise me you’ll come home.” Your voice was back to the soft quietness it had before as you set down the dish you were washing, the rag discarded against the side of the sink.

“Ray, you know I can’t guarantee that.” I ran a hand through my hair, the buzz cut prickly against my palms.

“Promise me Ryan. Please.” You gripped the edge of the sink tightly, turning your knuckles white. Tears began to fall, hitting the edge of the countertop. Your jaw was set tight, trying to hide how badly you were trembling.

“Rose please don’t cry. I’m right here.” I held you close to me, peppering your head with kisses.

“Ryan please, I don’t know how much longer I can do this!” Your body shook with sobs, your hands covering your face.

“The sleepless nights…The constant nightmares…Every time I hear the doorbell ring I’m scared as fuck that it’s going to be a soldier coming to tell me that you never made it home!” you cried out, burying your face into my uniform.

“I don’t ever want to lose you Ryan.” Your voice was barely above a whisper at this point.

“Ray… I know… please… don’t do this…”

“Don’t do this?! Are you serious?!” You pushed away from me, crossing your arms in front of your chest, tears staining your shirt.

“Ray no, I didn’t mean it like that.” My voice was small, trying to comfort you. I reached out, gently pulling you close to me once more, your sobs beginning to die down.

“Please Rose, I’m here. Just breathe. Please.” I spoke softly, rubbing your back. You whimpered into the touch, your tears beginning to slow, your breathing became more even.

“I love you Ryan.” You whispered, your hands clutching to my uniform. I gently cupped your chin and kissed you once more.

“I love you too Ray.” I spoke when the kiss was broken.

“Please, promise me Ryan.”

“I promise Rose.”

* * *

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm not fucking sorry.

_May 4, 1944_

_7:03 AM_

_Staff Sergeant James Ryan Haywood_

_United States Marine Corps_

_Somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean_

* * *

 

 __I left for my forward operating base today. Waking up this morning was really difficult, I didn’t see your face. I tried not to cry, I was missing your warmth next to me. I had since changed from my dress uniform to my combat uniform. Camouflage patterns covered my arms and legs, my name tape over my heart. I boarded the plane around 5:30AM, the posh plane interior couldn’t even brighten my grim thoughts. I thought long and hard about my promise to you, and I have come to a conclusion.

_I had made an empty promise._

I don’t know if I will even be able to land on the beaches, let alone make it home. This plan sounds really fucking risky, as if it’s our last ditch kind of effort. The soldier next to me, Fredrick, has been talking my ear off for the past few hours, taking about his girlfriend, his love life and his dogs. I stopped when he asked me if I had a girlfriend.

“So, who’s the lucky lass that you have courted?” Fredrick asked, a thick Jersey accent slurring his words.

“Excuse me?” I questioned, I didn’t hear him ask the question. I admit I had been tuning him out.

“I said, ‘who’s the lucky lass?’ There’s no way in hell you don’t have a lass.” Fredrick repeated.

I laughed nervously, running my hand through my buzz cut.

“Come on Haywood! Who is she?!” Fredrick punched me in the arm, trying to get a response.

“Well, to be far… I don’t have a _lass._ ” I said hesitantly.

“Well if you don’t have a lass who then? Don’t tell me you bat for the other team Haywood!” Fredrick laughed hysterically, punching me in the arm to emphasize his point.

“I don’t have anyone. We broke up right before I shipped off. They couldn’t take the constant deployments.” I quickly lied.

“I’m sorry Haywood, I didn’t know…” Fredrick spoke with a quiet voice.

“It’s fine, it wasn’t going to work out anyway.” I contemplated telling him about you, Rose, because this may be the last time I would ever speak to Fredrick. But I didn’t, because if I did, I didn’t know if it would make it back to my commanding officer. I would be dismissed in a hurry. I shook the thought and decided to sleep. I had another seven hours of flying to go.

 

 

* * *

 

 

_June 6, 1944_

_9:12 AM_

_Staff Sergeant James Ryan Haywood_

_Normandy, France_

* * *

 

I’m so sorry Rose.

I broke our promise.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ray gets the news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So a bit of perspective change, but it's crucial for the story to continue. I hope you understand. :)

_June 6, 1944_

_3:56 PM_

_Ray Narvaez Jr._

_Paris Island, South Carolina, United States_

* * *

 

Waking up in the mornings and not seeing you is probably the hardest part to get past every morning. I wish to wake up and see you there, your chest making the blankets rise and fall with a steady rhythm. I would always curl up close to you, our legs entangling beneath the sheets. You’d pull me close to your chest, throwing an arm around my waist, and placing a kiss on my head in your sleep. I want those mornings back. These cold, dark mornings are the worst. The sun still shines, but no longer does it feel golden like it did before, it feels dark and gloomy. Every day I wonder if the grey hue will ever be lifted, the day when I can finally see your face again will be the best day of my life. I plan to spend the night at the airport when you get your chance to come home, waiting anxiously for you to step off the plane. But now, I just continue to write in this journal.

I have written you so many letters. The constant not knowing takes a toll on my mind, but I have learned it’s best to stay busy otherwise I can’t focus. I start thinking about you, your gentle kisses when we wake up together in bed, the way your eyes scrunch up when you laugh, and your smile. God I miss seeing that smile every day. I would have to catch myself from wrapping my arms around you and kissing you deeply every time I saw you smile. Please come home Ryan. I miss you…

Today I went to the grocery store, I planned to make a big dinner when you come home. I bought ingredients to make homemade pasta, chicken and vegetables in order to make a big pot of homemade chicken noodle soup. I would spend all day working on the pasta, kneading the dough, rolling the sheets and trimming the noodles. Flour would be all over my shirt, turning the black fabric grey. Hours later the pasta would be cooked, the chicken shredded and added to the stock, potatoes peeled and ready to be mashed. It was always a ton of work to make this dish, but to see the way your eyes lit up when you walked into the kitchen was absolutely worth it. I couldn’t ever stop myself from kissing you every time, flour smudging your forehead. We would laugh and kiss once more. Oh how I miss those moments.

I was cleaning the house when I heard the doorbell ring. I wasn’t expecting anyone, so I raised my eyebrow at the sound. I unlatched the door and there stood two soldiers, the dress uniforms crisp and clean, their heads hung slightly. My hand covered my mouth, too shocked to speak. My throat was tight, a lump growing inside. I felt the tears begin to fall, my head shaking in disbelief. The taller soldier spoke first.

“Hello Ray, it’s with a heavy heart that we must tell you that James Ryan Haywood has been killed in action.”

I fell to my knees, my head falling into my lap. Sobs shook my body as the two soldiers tried to pick me up. The taller of the two held me when I was able to stand on weak knees. I continued to cry, the news fresh on my mind. With the help of the two soldiers, I walked to the couch in the living room, collapsing onto the soft fabric, my back facing the room. I grabbed for a throw pillow, the one you gave me on our engagement night. It was beige and purple, with our names expertly stitched into it with a fancy script. I held it close to my chest, your scent clinging to the fabric. The smell of oak and aftershave stung my nostrils, creating more tears as I came to the realization that this would be the last time I would smell that scent. I cried harder, as the taller soldier sat next to me on the edge of the couch, gently rubbing my back.

“Why did it have to be Ryan?” I spoke with a whisper. Tears streaked my face, staining my shirt. I held on to the pillow for dear life, as if it was my only savior in this world.

The soldiers left around five, leaving me to gather my thoughts before the casualty assistance officer arrived. I had left the living room, moving to our bedroom where I curled up in a ball on your side of the bed. I wrapped myself up in the sheets, your scent bringing me a strange sensation of comfort and sadness. I glanced over at your nightstand, our engagement picture stood to the left of the alarm clock, its slim black frame providing a contrast against the bright, bubbly picture. There you were, smiling in the background while I had the dumbest look on my face showing off my ring to the camera. I insisted that we never put that picture out because I look like such a dork, but I lost that argument pretty quickly. I’m kind of glad I did. I turned away from the nightstand, curling up even tighter, entangling myself in the sheets. I don’t know when I fell asleep, on your side of the bed holding our pillow close.

* * *

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> :)

_November 11, 1944_

_10:32 AM_

_Ray Narvaez Jr._

_Paris Island, South Carolina, United States_

* * *

 

It’s been a long six months. I’ve tried to write to you, but whenever I sit down and pull out the notebook my eyes become clouded with tears, knowing that you will never get to read my journal entry. The house feels so empty, the homeliness of the place is long gone now. I can’t really walk around anymore without being reminded of you. Your pictures line the walls, from your graduation from basic training to our engagement. They all have been flipped to face the wall, otherwise I won’t be able to move about our home. You plague my thoughts every day, and how I just wish I could see your face again. To hold you close and feel your arms wrap around me, allowing me to melt into you. How I miss it…

I’ve fallen ill with severe pneumonia, coughs and sickness racking my body. The hospital has me hooked up to many machines, trying to keep the fluid from collecting in my lungs. The doctors say I don’t have much time left, as my lungs continuously fill almost hour by hour. The nurses have tried to make me feel as comfortable as possible, from fluffing my pillows to giving me extra blankets when my body begins to shake from the cold. It terrifies me that I may not have much time left, but I am also ready to go.

Sleeping is difficult, I’m plagued with coughs that rack my body, and thoughts of you. I can’t sleep more than a few hours, even if I do it’s a very light sleep. I see you in my dreams, your uniform crisp and clean, arms outstretched ready for me to jump into them. I run to you, my legs carrying me faster than I have ever run. As I jump, you catch me and spin around, holding me close to your chest. My tears start to fall, staining your uniform. But I don’t care, I have you once more, and that’s all that matters. But the worst part is waking up. I am no longer in your arms, I am in a hospital bed, the sheets crisp and chemical scented. I feel like absolute shit on the final morning. My lungs are almost full, my breathing shallow, and I have told the doctors I’m ready to go. They administer a final dosage of drugs to make it less painful. I feel the cold saline enter through my IV, and I inhale as deeply as I could. The nurses gather around me, the blonde one holding my hand. I squeeze her hand and close my eyes as my breathing slows.

_“Hello my rose. I’ve missed you greatly.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> As always, find a spelling/mistake/concern?  
> Leave it in the comments below!
> 
> Feel free to shoot me prompts on tumblr!  
> gaywoodformrhaywood.tumblr.com
> 
> -Fallen


End file.
